The Living and Dying
by GloriousBlackout
Summary: Kili is certain that he fell during the great battle, and his brother with him. It comes as a shock, then, when he wakes in the middle of nowhere with only a voice and his memories to guide him. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N I'm not entirely sure where this came from but I felt the need to write it. It will be multi-chaptered but updates should hopefully be quick as the next parts are mostly complete. This was also an excuse to practice my (frankly pitiful) writing when it comes to scenery so any feedback would be appreciated :) I hope you enjoy!**

_Disclaimer: I still don't own The Hobbit. Which is probably for the best..._

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Kili expected to experience pain when he awoke. His mind was hazy, weighed down by sleep, and he had grown so used to the warm comforts of darkness that waking seemed a daunting task.

He could remember a battle; the clang of swords, the roars of men, the dying screams of the fallen. He could remember a cool blade sliding into his flesh as easily as if it had been slicing bread, and then nothing. He'd let unconsciousness take him in the hopes that death would be swift, but that was all he knew.

Also, his brother was dead. That was a certainty – those particular memories remained preserved in agonising clarity. Perhaps that was what frightened Kili most. The thought of seeing Fili's pale, dead face beside him in the mud and the fiery agony that would ignite in his belly as sensation returned.

It was strange though, because he actually felt nothing.

Warily, he peeled one eye open before frowning in confusion. He was not where he had fallen, that much was certain. His head rested on an uncomfortable bed of twigs and dead leaves. The air around him was still, but icily cold, and his shaking hands fumbled around his leather coat in an attempt to shield himself from its bite.

With a groan, he raised himself into an upright position to find that, apart from the aches in his tired muscles, he experienced no other pains. His hands ghosted over his now intact abdomen and he laughed with pleasant relief at the absence of blood. It did not take long for his happiness to melt away however, as it once again became clear that _he had not fallen here_.

Wherever 'here' was.

Upon raising his head and taking in his surroundings, Kili suddenly felt very lost. He was in the middle of a woodland area, one that seemed to have withered with time. Skeletal, bare trees snaked from the ground and brittle whitened branches tangled overhead, blocking out most of the was bathed in an eerie blue light and a faint mist obscured his surroundings so that he could not see far ahead. Even his skilled eyes could not aid him in that moment.

At first he thought he must be dreaming still. It made no sense for him to be in this place. Had he been recovered from the battlefield he would have been taken to the warm halls of Erebor, and he would surely be dead if he hadn't.

And yet, the soil and browned leaves felt real and solid beneath his fingers. The cold was as fierce as the winters of his childhood in the harsh mountains had been. He took a breath and his lungs filled with air. His heart hammered in his chest.

He _must_ be alive.

How much longer that would last remained uncertain.

Deciding that sitting on his arse would do little good – nor would it help determine his whereabouts – he shakily rose to his feet and surveyed the area. The wood was rather sparse and no obvious threat presented itself, but there was also no clear path to follow. Searching for one would have to be his main concern for now. He'd deal with wherever it led later.

With more difficulty than he'd have liked, he placed one foot in front of the other and began to set up a steady pace – _one, two, one, two_ – and his footsteps caused the leaves to crunch underfoot and disturb the stillness of the wood. The still air continued to unnerve him. He knew from experience that no place was ever this calm, especially at night.

As if hearing his thoughts, a sudden breeze passed him by and he froze where he stood. Kili had heard something. A whisper, light as a breath, carried along by the slight wind. He listened attentively for more but the breeze died barely moments after it had picked up.

Regardless, he was certain that he'd heard someone call his name.

Picking up his pace, he ran in the direction of the strange call but it quickly became evident that his search would be fruitless. The dead wood stretched on and on, the landscape rising and falling but rarely changing. Annoyingly, the mist lingered so that he could never be certain of which direction he was headed and the pale blue light that seeped from the moon's rays was disorientating.

He swore under his breath. He could barely trust his senses, nor his surroundings. A tiny voice in his head haunted his frustrated mind, mocking his efforts. '_It's not real,'_ it sang. He almost wanted to believe it.

'_Kili.'_

He spun at the sound, his mind whirring. He knew that voice, even if he could not quite remember where he'd heard it. The need to answer its call gripped him like a vice and drove him onwards. It was an anchor to this world, a reminder of who he was. A tiny shred of proof that this place truly existed.

Not that he had any desire to stay.

After venturing for a few more miles, he began to grow increasingly suspicious. While he had grown used to long journeys of late, he was certain that he should be weary from travelling by now. He should also have experienced twinges of hunger and thirst and yet none came forward. So too should the sky have lightened as the hours passed, and yet his surroundings remained unchanged.

As still as a grave.

Not for the first time, Kili wondered if he truly had died.

A sudden chill answered his musings, but whether it acted as a confirmation or a denial he could not tell.

Kili cried out in frustration and sank to the ground with all the grace of a petulant child. He hated this place. He wanted the soft comforts of the Blue Mountains or the playful laughter that had echoed through the days of his childhood. He wanted the vast halls of Erebor and the green lands beyond it.

More than anything, he wanted his big brother.

Pain lanced through his chest and he rubbed forcefully at his eyes only to find his cheeks wet with tears. He could have sobbed if he'd had the strength. In time he would, he vowed silently. In time he would grieve for his loss; his brother deserved no less. But that time must wait.

After all, he had mysteries to solve in the meantime. Mysteries that did not concern the dead.


	2. Chapter 2

Days passed before he reached the gate.

The wood had lightened eventually, to Kili's relief. Despite the skeletal branches overhead bathing him in shadow, there was now enough light to guide him and he'd been able to move faster as a result. After some time, he had chosen to think of this journey as more of an adventure; something familiar and hopeful. It helped him put thoughts of battles and death out of his mind for a while at least.

There had been occasions where he'd found his trip to be completely fruitless and others where he'd been so convinced he was dreaming that he'd considered killing himself in the hope that he'd wake from this stupor. However, the voice in the wind remained persistent. Every time he faltered, a breeze would pick up and he would hear his name echo around him.

Against his better judgement, Kili had chosen to trust his invisible guide.

Eventually – after more miles than he cared to count – the trees had become more scattered and he'd stumbled into a large, bright clearing. Beyond a large bed of roots and fallen leaves stood a towering stone gate, drowning in thick moss and green ivy. Underneath the natural coverings, Kili could make out the faint engravings of an ancient text but the stone had obviously suffered over the years and was so worn that its tales had wasted away.

The gate was too heavy to simply force open but Kili knew instinctively that he could go no other way. The voice had lured him here, after all. If its source had wanted him to be lost forever in these woods it would have left him where he'd woken.

Exploring the rest of the vast structure, he carefully peeled away some of the moss and enjoyed the cool dampness of it underneath his aching hands. When that uncovered nothing, he began to tug at the ivy instead. The slithering roots groaned and creaked with his efforts but eventually they gave way to reveal the discoloured stone beneath.

It took the best part of a day to clear away the entirety of the gate. The sun beat down on his back as he worked and his arms began to ache but Kili was grateful for the work. After days of wandering, the sudden activity was a welcome relief. When he grew too hot he used the moss to cool his hands and forehead and when he grew too lonely he'd sing old songs under his breath. He was almost content in those repetitive hours, and as usual he felt no pangs of hunger or thirst. Food and water had ceased to become necessities in this strange land.

His hands eventually found a jutting section of rock, and he cleared the way to look at it properly. It resembled a lever; like the ones that would open sections of the mines back home. Its granite surface stood out against the greyness of its surroundings and it stood at an angle, allowing the rock to glint in the sunlight. Kili expected it to be useless - stiff with time - but it was tugged downwards fairly easily with only a brief screech of protest.

The grinding of stone against uneven ground had him jumping out of the way as the gate began to pull apart at a pain-staking pace. Not too long ago, he thought, the slowness of it would have driven him mad. Now though, he simply stood back and wiled away the time by snapping the fallen ivy with the soles of his feet.

It was strange that he had been able to learn much about patience in his time here. Kili had grown to hate the place so much he never imagined that he'd take anything away from it.

That hardly stopped his eagerness to leave though. When the crack in the gate was wide enough for him to slip through with all bones intact, he abandoned the dead wood without a second thought.

Only when he looked ahead did he realise that he'd given no thought as to what would face him on the other side.

The world before him was almost completely barren, with dust scattered for miles and an even hotter sun beating down on the land. The only disturbance in the otherwise desolate view was an oddly familiar sight.

A large tent with royal blue coverings stood proudly before him, flapping against a wind that he could not feel. He recognised it, if only vaguely. It resembled the medical tents from old Balin's tales, the ones that would await the wounded after a valiant battle. Kili couldn't recall ever hearing about them in detail. Children's tales always revolved around an invincible hero who had no need of medicine or healing. How ignorant he had once been to be enthralled by such idols, but he could hardly blame the storytellers. No child wanted to hear the truth about the brutality of war. He knew that well enough now.

Such notions brought back memories of his recent battle, and the tent suddenly appeared much more ominous. Perhaps his body lay within its fabric walls. Perhaps it hid the body of his brother, or his uncle or any one of his friends. Images of little Ori lying lifeless amongst feeble coverings, or their faithful burglar covered in his own blood almost had Kili retching into the dust.

Days of surviving with no sustenance whatsoever had been enough to convince him that he was dreaming. '_Or dead,'_ his mind seemed intent on reminding him. If the tent concealed the reality of that then he wasn't sure he was ready to go to it.

He wondered if he even had a choice in the matter.

Warily, he crept towards the tent as if afraid that unseen horrors would leap at him. It unnerved him that he could not see nor hear any activity from inside. Still, he suspected that he had little to fear while he remained on this plain. Should he be killed he would surely awaken somewhere else. Possibly surrounded by family and friends. That would make a pleasant change from his recent loneliness.

He continued onwards with a little more conviction in his step.

When he was finally close enough he allowed his fingers to trail over the fine blue fabric. It was surprisingly soft, like silken gowns or clean bed-sheets. It was almost comforting to clench it in his hands and pretend that it could possibly be real.

A brief glance behind him revealed that the gate had vanished from sight but that hardly mattered. He had grown used to the strangeness of this place. The sun could collapse in on itself and he'd still be able to put it down to tricks and games. It was hardly cause to trust his surroundings, but the one thing he did trust turned his head once more.

"_Kili."_

He closed his eyes and took a nervous breath. He knew that voice, he was sure of it, but he could not identify it no matter how hard he tried. But he knew he could trust its source. Or, at the very least, he hoped he could.

Blindly, he followed its lull and entered the tent.

The taste of dust on his tongue and the fierce heat of the sun left him behind.

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**A/N Sorry for the delay with this chapter. I took a while for me to be happy enough with it but hopefully the next one will be up sooner.**

**Also, this seems to be more of a filler chapter than I'd have liked, but I promise things will move forward soon. Thanks to everyone who has favourited/followed so far! Any feedback is welcome :)**


	3. Chapter 3

The folds of the tent gave way and - like a sea calming after a storm - the outside wind finally halted. Kili stood still for a long moment, his eyes shut tightly as he let a fresh warmth wash over him. It was the sounds that finally roused him – a distant clanging of metal against rock and the shrill notes of birdsong.

Slowly, as if afraid to break the peaceful illusion, he opened his eyes. The sight before him caused the breath to catch painfully in his throat as a sharp pang of longing lanced through his chest.

He was home.

Kili spun, expecting to see the barren wasteland behind him but it had vanished along with the tent. Instead he was in his childhood home; a soft light floating from an open window and a crackling fire dancing in the stone hearth. A cautious step forward revealed that the wooden floorboards still creaked in protest and the smell of hearty stew drifted from their small kitchen.

'_It's not real,'_ he tried to tell himself, but there was no certainty in it. His heart ached too terribly for certainty.

Suddenly weary, he sank into their rough – but familiar – armchair. His fingers searched the scratchy fabric, finding the tears that had resulted from far too many play-fights of decades past. It was not the only detail that had survived. Soot-covered tools from the blacksmiths rested beside the fire and he could see the chips and cracks littered across their stone hearth. The details seemed too concise to be anything but real.

It certainly felt more realistic than any stretch of the woodland had done.

"Kili?"

He tensed at the voice, his heart clenching with buried pain and his eyes burning. It was not the voice that had been calling him for all this time but it was the only one he had any desire to hear.

"Fili."

Kili couldn't bring himself to face him. Not now. The sight would surely kill him, or drive him mad with grief.

If he wasn't mad already.

Fili, it seemed, did not intend to give him a choice in the matter. Rough, calloused hands lightly rested against his own and tried to uncurl his tight fists. Kili looked away, holding back tears, and the sob that was trapped in his throat. _It's not real. I saw him die._

A sharp inhale indicated that he'd said those words out loud.

"Kili? Look at me, please." His brother's voice was steady but the hidden plea was evident and Kili finally relented. His eyes met those of his brother's and he saw the concern hidden in their blue depths. It was enough to break him.

"I saw you die!" Kili all but screamed, lunging forward to yank Fili towards him. His fingers gripped supple leather and the chest that he cradled his head against was warm and housed a misleading heartbeat. Kili gave into his sobs and shuddered violently while strong, safe arms wrapped around his body and held him close. When he had no more tears to give he simply gulped for breaths that struggled to reach his lungs.

It took a while for him to notice that Fili was singing softly to him, and he suddenly felt like a very small child.

"Maybe I am dead too?" He cringed at the hope in his own voice, but right now he'd take any answer if it meant his uncertainty would end. "Perhaps I got lost on the way here and kept you waiting."

Fili laughed at that before shifting so that he too sat on their battered armchair. "Perhaps," he mused, stroking his little brother's hair in a soothing motion. "Or perhaps you were stubborn enough to drag me back to the land of the living."

Kili hiccoughed, too weak for a laugh, and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He ought to feel embarrassed, he supposed, but he'd lost any sense of humility back in the never-ending woods. Instead, he simply let his senses wash over him; the heat of the fire, the scent of warm stew that had his mouth watering, the sounds from the distant mines beyond their window. He glanced around their cramped, but cosy, room and drank in the details. It could very well be his only chance.

"Is this a memory?" It seemed too real to be devised, Kili thought, unless that was simply a fool's hope.

"Aye, I'd assume so," Fili replied regretfully. Kili hadn't expected the confirmation to hurt as much as it did, but he knew that his brother was never one to feed him lies. "That or a dream."

Kili nodded wordlessly, before pulling away from his brother and rising shakily to his feet. "You're not real."

It wasn't intended as a question, but a strangled 'no' answered him anyway.

That was all he needed. Kili knew that he had to move on now, though gods knew he didn't want to. He could lose himself in this place – spend the rest of his days among happy memories and the family he loved. He may never see the real world again anyway. What use was throwing this wonderful opportunity away if there was a chance that he'd always be lost?

The answer came to him quickly. He knew that he could never be content here in the knowledge that it was all an illusion.

"_It's not real."_

For once, he was grateful for that voice in his head.

He sensed movement behind him and turned to find Fili on his feet, his eyes bright with barely concealed pain. The sight would have been unbearable to behold only moments ago but Kili knew now that it was a trick designed to keep him here. It had to be.

"Stay?" Fili's hand gripped his arm tightly like a vice and he brought their foreheads together, his other hand cradling the back of his head. "Please, just stay with me."

Kili hesitated for a split second and held his breath. Fili's plea had weakened his resolve slightly, but not enough. He met his brother's eyes and granted him a weak smile. It had been so long since he'd smiled so sincerely; the action almost hurt him.

"One day, I'll stay with you. When my bones creak and my body grows weary and my hair whitens. When I've lived the life of an old fool." _When I've actually had the chance to live,_ was the unspoken implication, and it was not lost on Fili. The words came to Kili strangely easily but he knew deep down that he'd never meant anything more. He really did want to live. Maybe, just maybe, taking advantage of that chance would be worth the grief that followed. "After that, I will find you brother. Then I will stay, you have my word."

He rose onto his tip-toes and planted a soft kiss upon his brother's forehead. Fili didn't react, but when Kili drew back he could see that his eyes had closed.

It reminded him of long ago, when his world was capable of collapsing over something as petty as a scraped knee or a dreadful cold. Fili would come to his aid of course. He always did. Kili could remember being held tightly and cringing away as his brother planted a soft kiss on his forehead and teased him. His pride had never been enough to drag him away from his brother's arms though, and he had been cradled to sleep many times.

Those days seemed far too vivid in his mind for something so far away.

There was nothing more to say. He wanted to talk, certainly, but he couldn't risk it. Every second he spent here was just another temptation to stay. It would not be long before he yielded, of that he was sure.

As if awaiting his cue, the door to the house slid open with a creak. Kili could hear it then, that same voice calling to him. The path ahead was finally clear.

He started away from Fili, feeling his brother tense at his loss, before making his way to his next destination. There was nothing to see beyond the door, only whiteness, but he found himself trusting whatever lay beyond anyway. He had to trust it. Staying was no longer an option.

There was a conviction in that thought that surprised him. And yet, he supposed he could be forgiven for casting one last look back at his home. Just a quick look.

Enough to see the details fade from the room like the erasing of a mistake, and the last dying embers of the fire flickering among the coals.

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**A/N** **Just a quick warning; it may be a little while before the next update. Exams are looming once again and they'll need to take priority for now. That said, I will try to fit in the next chapter and will update as soon as I can. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)**


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